


Moments to Breathe

by BunanTsokolatte



Series: Amadia Trevelyan [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Ballroom Dancing, Circle of Magi, Cold, Cold Weather, Dancing, Domestic Fluff, Drabble, Dragon Age: Inquisition Spoilers, Dreams and Nightmares, Drug Withdrawal, Early Mornings, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Family, Family Fluff, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Fluffy Ending, Gratuitous Smut, Halamshiral, Honeymoon, Hypothermia, Implied Sexual Content, Lingerie, Love Confessions, Lyrium Withdrawal, Mages, Mages and Templars, Marriage, Mild Sexual Content, Mild Smut, Morning After, Morning Sex, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Nightmares, Nobility, Orlais, Orlesian Ball, Pregnancy, Resolved Sexual Tension, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Sex, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Shameless Smut, Skyhold, Slow Dancing, The Winter Palace (Dragon Age), Unresolved Sexual Tension, Walking, Withdrawal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-10-02
Packaged: 2018-03-04 20:12:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3087566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BunanTsokolatte/pseuds/BunanTsokolatte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of one-shot moments in Commander Cullen and Inquisitor Amadia Trevelyan's relationship. Mage Trevelyan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Morning Ritual

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pre-relationship. Cullen and Amadia begin a daily, morning tradition that stays with them for the rest of their lives.

He was always up at the crack of dawn, never able to get a good night's rest with the nightmares that plagued him nearly every night (among the other signs of his lyrium withdrawal). He always had to get outside and let the cool, cleansing air of morning and the first rays of sunlight calm his erratic heartbeat.

But he found that a new step in his morning routine was proving effective in calming his nerves and somehow enhancing them all at once.

Amadia Trevelyan. A “simple” mage from the Ostwick Circle of Magi, she had said when she introduced herself. (And a noble, from what Josephine had immediately gathered from her last name, though the lady seemed to be modest in confirming that fact.) However, being the only survivor of the Conclave when the Breach split open the sky, the bearer of the Fade-touched mark on her hand, and the supposed Herald of Andraste made her anything but simple. Nonetheless, it was clear to Cullen that she had simple tastes, if what he saw in her every morning was any indication.

The first time he noticed her during his morning stroll, she had caught his eye on a hill towering just above some houses on one side of the Haven Chantry. He found himself stopping in his tracks, feeling a need to satisfy his curiosity at what she was doing there. She was so still, her head turned up to the rising sun and her eyes on the horizon. She had a beige shawl around her shoulders, formed together in crocheted patterns of thin yet strong and luxurious thread. She had it clutched closed in the front with her hands and the back of it formed a triangle, the point ending at her waist. Her hair and the fringes of the shawl swayed as a breeze went past and he found himself staring as she closed her eyes against the feel of it, the smallest smile gracing her coral lips. Her bangs moved and he could see the shape of the purple tattoo dotted around her left eye.

An eye that opened and turned to him. He was caught in her golden brown gaze, her lips now parted in curiosity as she studied him. He coughed and waved, trying to pretend he had only just laid eyes on her, and he found the corners of his mouth rising as she smiled sweetly at him and waved back. 

That smile made his heart beat erratically. Hiding his sudden stab of nervousness, he bowed to her slightly before quickly walking out of her line of vision, missing how she giggled to herself as she watched him attempt to regain composure.

This repeated for several days until one day, to his disappointment, he found, she was not at her usual spot. But when he walked further down the path and made it to the front of the tavern, he saw her standing at the gates. When she saw him approaching, she smiled and Cullen couldn't help but notice her sheepish expression with one eyebrow raised higher than the other and the way she was fiddling with her fingers. The ends of the shawl she always wore fell into the crooks of her arms, pinned in place as her arms bent.

“Lady Amadia,” Cullen greeted with a slight bow.

Her smile perked for a moment at the formality. “Simply 'Amadia' will do, Ser Cullen. Mind if I join you on your walk?” she asked. “I should get to know you better. We are working together, after all.”

The suggestion surprised and pleased the commander. “I would like that, though please, Lad—Amadia,” he corrected himself. “Please call me 'Cullen.'”

She smiled. “All right. Cullen, then.”

As they walked through the front gates and began walking the path past the training grounds, Amadia spoke first. “I always see you up at this time, Cullen. I take it you're a morning person?”

Cullen chuckled. “Something like that. It's a force of habit from my years as a templar.” He refrained from mentioning the deeper ties of his past occupation to his sleeping habits. “I enjoy taking a stroll to wake up in the morning. Something about the cool air here is refreshing. What about you?” he asked, turning to his companion. “I see you standing on that same hill every morning.”

It was Amadia's turn to chuckle. “It's a little silly, now that I think about it. I've found it has the best view in the village. I came from a Circle so I cherish the chance to be outside every chance I get.” 

“I don't think it's silly at all,” Cullen reassured her.

The bright smile she gave made his heart speed up again. “Good.”

“I can sympathize. Templars didn't get out of the Circle much either, depending on our duties. I know it's different for the mages.” He turned to her again. “You traveled some distance to reach Haven. You're from the Circle in Ostwick?”

“I spent the better part of my life there. It feels strange to be away.”

“It does at times. I'm still getting used to it myself. It's been...interesting.”

The walk should have been short but at the pace they were going, it felt like they had been gone hours. They had spent that morning learning about where they were before the Inquisition. Cullen detailed his story from his childhood in Honnleath to his service as a templar at the Circle of Magi in Ferelden and as Knight-Captain in Kirkwall. Amadia discussed her upbringing balancing the life of a Circle mage who learned and taught magical practice and a noble whose family still dragged her out of the Circle now and then to attend parties and high class gatherings. 

Amadia had always seen Cullen with such a serious expression on his face but she was pleased to see him smile more as they spoke. She did not know what to expect when she proposed taking a walk together but she was relieved to find a man who could laugh and smile beneath his serious commander visage. Cullen was glad to find Amadia so personable and easy to talk to underneath all the poise and properness she carried herself with. She carried herself so gracefully that it always distressed him a little that he might offend her in some way. But he found her openminded and accepting beneath her well-mannered demeanor, though he still found himself hoping he wouldn't say the wrong thing.

Cullen's recruits were already training by the time they got back to the gates of Haven. As they approached the gates to Haven, Cullen told Amadia, “Thank you for joining me this morning, my lady. I enjoyed talking with you.”

“As did I,” Amadia replied, smiling at him.

An awkward pause fell between them, only the sounds of the wind and swords clashing nearby to fill it. Cullen scratched his neck, trying to think of what else to say, while Amadia fiddled with her fingers once more.

“Well, um, I should...let you get to it then,” Amadia said. “Good day, Cullen,” she said, smiling politely as she turned to leave.

Cullen panicked. The stroll with her had been so nice he didn't want her company to be a one time occurrence. “Wait!” he found himself blurting out before he could stop himself. 

“Yes?” Amadia answered, turning around more eagerly than she realized.

She watched the commander's eyes flit to the ground, his hand come up to the back of his neck anxiously. “I, erm, I would not mind...” He stopped himself, taking a breath to regain his composure “Would you like to join me again tomorrow morning? I would like to talk with you more...if you'd have my company.”

It surprised her how much the request overjoyed her. She found herself smiling widely. “Of course, Cullen. Tomorrow morning.”

Maker's breath, he was going to do something incredibly stupid if she kept smiling at him the way she was.

“Yes, erm. Tomorrow morning. Good day, Amadia,” he said abruptly, bidding her goodbye before he could say something foolish.

“Good day to you, Cullen,” she said, flashing that smile one more time before stepping through the gates.

Cullen stared after for a moment before attempting to quell his heartbeat and pushing the image of her smile to the back of his mind as he turned his attention to his recruits' training.

It became a shared, daily ritual for the two of them, taking a long walk in front of Haven's gates every morning before the rest of the village woke. They spoke of life in the Circle, of their families, of their favorite foods, of their favorite memories, of anything. When one had been away on Inquisition business, the walks were longer, full of updates and adventure. 

They continued their ritual on the battlements when they found Skyhold. After some time, when their feelings for each other finally came to surface, people noticed how they took their morning walk hand-in-hand or with the Inquisitor taking the commander's arm. They definitely noticed the shy blushes, the smiles, the laughter, the stares into each other's eyes, and the way they would stop occasionally to hold each other and share a kiss.

After the battle with Corypheus, they would continue their tradition with rings on their fingers. Even later, their walks would be a little slower with Cullen assisting his heavily pregnant wife as she shakes her head at his comments on her loveliness and positively adorable waddling. A few years later, their daughter would be walking with one tiny hand in each of her parents' as she stared in wonder at the scar in the sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was supposed to be beta'd by my best friend but she's busy with her own fanfiction and I wanted to get this up for either the holidays or the New Year so apologies for any errors. Hope you enjoyed it! :)
> 
> The first couple tales will be in chronological order. After that, I'll have some sort of context for where in the timeline it takes place.
> 
> I also keep a tag of Amadia here if you wish to know more about her: http://bunan-tsokolatte.tumblr.com/tagged/amadia-trevelyan  
> I am currently doing an Inquisitor meme to flesh out her life story a bit more.


	2. Warmth in the Frostbacks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Corypheus attacks Haven, Cullen prays he finds Amadia alive.

As the people of Haven reached an opening to the other side of the mountain, Cullen heard running footsteps approaching from behind. He saw Cassandra, Varric, and Solas emerge from the shadows, their pants huffing visibly in the cold air.

“Thank the Maker,” Cullen muttered as Cassandra approached him, her hands on her knees as she caught her breath. “Where's Lady Amadia?” he asked, not seeing her face among them.

The look Cassandra gave him was pained. “She...we thought she was right behind us, Cullen,” she said. “She's still there...with the Elder One." 

That froze the blood running through Cullen's veins more than the chill of the Frostbacks.

Thoughts raced in the back of his mind even as Cassandra informed him of what happened as they looked for a place to camp for their people. _She could be lying injured somewhere, unable to move. She could be freezing to death._  

_If she isn't dead already._  

He did not want to think of it. The moment they found a place to camp, he entrusted Leliana and Josephine with overseeing its setup. He wanted to look for Amadia immediately and Cassandra ran to catch up to him, her urgency nearly matching his own. He only hoped if—when—they found her, it was not too late. She was the Herald. She had to have another miracle in her. She had to. 

 

* * *

 

_Cold...too cold..._

The words pulsated in her head like her heartbeat. She had given up on using her staff to steady herself after her fingers became so stiff and worn out that she kept planting it wrong and slipping. Her arms were wrapped around herself in a feeble attempt to keep herself warm. The muscles in her arms trembled from tightening around her form for so long. Her teeth hurt from chattering, visible, puffed hisses escaping between them. The snow and wind whipped all around her, attacking her cheeks with little bites and making them frosty pink. Her legs shook beneath her from so much walking and trudging through snow. 

She wanted nothing more than to pass out in the snow, to rest, but she pressed forward, despite the constant slipping and forcing herself to get back up. She had to make sure they were all okay. She had to make sure everyone in Haven made it out, even if she had to crawl her way to where they may be.

She had slowed down to the point where she thought she would simply freeze on the spot. When she realized it was only the crunch of her footsteps in the snow that she heard, she finally noticed that the wind and snow had stopped. Everything was still and silent and she found comfort in it, despite all of the discomfort assaulting her body. She passed a pile of embers and passed a hand over it, hope spearing her when she felt warmth still emanating from it. Spurred on by this little victory, she pressed forward, slowly but surely.

In the distance, she thought she saw light.

 

* * *

 

Cullen and Cassandra didn't have to look far. They had only walked up a big slope near the camp when they made out a familiar silhouette with shoulder-length hair and a shortened coat in the moonlight.

“There! It's her!” Cullen exclaimed, breaking into a sprint towards her.

“Thank the Maker!” Cassandra said, relief palpable in her voice.

Amadia's consciousness gave in at the mere sound of another person's voice, the last of her strength coursing through her wobbling legs. When the familiar forms of Cullen and Cassandra registered, Cullen saw a flash of relief and perhaps even a smile go across her face before she fell to her knees. Cullen caught her unconscious form before she could face plant into the snow. He looked at her face and feared the paleness in her normally bronzed skin, the blue lips that were usually coral and vibrant, the labored, stuttering breaths escaping from them. 

“Maker's breath...” Cullen muttered. Without a second thought, he shrugged off his long, loose vest that draped over his armor and wrapped it around her. The fabric wrapped around her smaller frame until it closed at the neck, the feathers of his pauldrons in a snug ring around her neck. It wasn't much but he hoped it provided a little more warmth.

She felt lifeless in his arms as he lifted her, tucking her face into the crook of his neck and bowing his head over it in an attempt to shield her exposed skin from any more of the cold. He started back towards the camp, Cassandra in tow.

Mother Giselle saw the search party returning, the noble mage limp in Cullen's arms. Cullen laid Amadia on a bedroll and assisted Mother Giselle with wrapping her in extra blankets prepared for when they found her, Leliana, Josephine, and Cassandra only able to hover as he gave Amadia all of his attention. The women watched as Cullen stared into her face longingly afterwards, unable to find the will to move from her side.

When Leliana and Josephine made their way to the nearby campfire to begin discussing their next move, Cassandra broke the silence. “Cullen,” she said, “it is vital that we discuss what to do next.” 

“I know,” he told the Seeker. He bowed his head slightly, his gaze pained as he studied the ebbing pallor in Amadia's face.

Cassandra stood by silently, studying this new brand of pain she saw on Cullen's face. “She's all right now. She will be well in Mother Giselle's care.”

Cullen stared into Amadia's face a moment longer, memorizing her resting face and thanking the Maker. He wanted to remember this, to let it motivate himself and prevent this kind of devastation from befalling the Inquisition again. Reluctantly, he got up and joined the others by the fire for what was sure to be a long debate on where to go next.

 

* * *

 

The hymn revived something in Amadia, a warmth that the fire and the blankets failed to bring her. Her mouth still shaped its words, her tongue still curling around them. She saw its rejuvenating stain still present on the determined faces of their people. It gave her hope and readied her for anything the Inquisition may face in the coming days.

Going on Solas's word, the announcement was made that Amadia would lead the Inquisition to its new home. They wasted no time; they had rested enough while waiting for Amadia to wake up and listening to the advisors bicker over their next move.

Amadia helped the camp pack up and had only realized after taking a moment to breathe that she was still wearing Cullen's vest. In a selfish moment, when no one was looking, she wrapped it around her just a little tighter. She relished the warmth it provided, especially around the neck where the feathers encircled it snugly as she pulled the fabric across herself. As she did, she could smell metal, smoke, and a mix of oil, wax, and polish. That soldier smell was completely him and it reminded her of how grateful she had been for his advice on the field and proud she was of him, seeing his leadership in evacuating their people out of Haven.

She knew she couldn't wear it forever and, in a moment of humor, she laughed to herself at how naked he looked without it. The garment gave him a commander's presence, the feathers adding flair and adding broadness to his form. Had she not already known what he looked like, she might have mistaken him for another Templar with the state his armor was in.

He was alone for a moment and she approached him, her heart already speeding up in her chest. He heard the crunch of footsteps growing closer from behind him and grew nervous at the sight of Amadia, looking lovely and majestic in his loose vest draping over her form, wearing that smile he found himself growing more and more fond of. He didn't want to admit how much he liked seeing her in his vest.

“I never got a chance to thank you, Cullen,” she told him quietly. “You let me wear this,” she continued, clutching the fabric of his vest, “and Cassandra tells me you carried me to the camp. I can't thank you enough.”

“It was no trouble,” Cullen responded. “I was— _we_ were just glad to find you alive, and you needed the warmth of that far more than I did,” he said, gesturing to his vest.

Her smile grew wider at him and she began to shrug her arms one at a time out of the vest. “Here. I shan't keep your vest forever.”

“Are you sure?” Cullen began, a little twinge of disappointment hitting him when he saw one shoulder bare from slipping it from the vest. “You may keep it a little longer, if you need to keep warm.”

She laughed a little as she gathered the fabric in her hands. “I appreciate it but you're looking a little...not yourself without this.”

Cullen gave his own laugh in response, taking the garment from her and slipping it over his shoulders. He had to admit, it was comforting to feel the familiar weight of the feathers again. 

“Thank you,” he told her. “Though if you're giving this back to me, I have something for you.”

Amadia raised a questioning brow and followed him to a nearby tent where he pulled something out of a pack. He handed it to her and Amadia saw, folded hastily into a square, the beige shawl she wore every morning.

“My shawl...” she muttered, her eyes widening in awe. “How did you...?”

“You happened to leave it in the War Room this morning,” he replied. “We were gathering some belongings in there during the evacuation. I didn't think you wanted to be without it.”

Her eyes seemed to glimmer when they looked upon Cullen with that smile. “Thank you.” Her gaze turned to the lovingly crocheted work in her hands. “This was made for me by one of the servants at our estate before I left for the Circle so it means a lot to me.” She looked up at him again, cradling the shawl tenderly to her heart. “Thank you. Truly.”

The pleased smirk he gave in response made her cheeks grow warm. “You're welcome,” he said softly, his eyes unwavering from hers. 

He always found she looked quite pretty when she blushed, a warm pink quickly painting over the bronze of her cheeks. She looked down as if to hide it, her eyelashes fluttering to a close for a moment, and it only enchanted him more.

She cleared her throat and looked back up at him. “I should go. I have to bring us to the place that Solas told us about.” 

Cullen nodded at her. “Wherever you lead us, we will follow,” he said determinedly. 

She left him with a smile before walking to her place at the front of the group and Cullen let his relief and pride in her guide him as he checked on their people, ready to follow the Herald to the dawn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn't really know what to call the thing that Cullen wears so I went for vest. :x The shawl Amadia wears is also mentioned in the previous chapter :)
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter! I'm excited because this one and the first one are the ones I wanted in chronological order. After this, I can kind of put them in whatever order I want as ideas come to me and I already have some that are done or just need checking. Keep a look out for these upcoming chapters!


	3. Dare to Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen told Amadia he couldn't dance. But when he sees just how much the events of the Orlesian ball had weighed down on his unshakable Inquisitor, he puts aside all reservations for the chance to lift the lady's spirits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place during "Wicked Eyes, Wicked Hearts." Some direct dialogue from the quest but not a primary focus of the fic and includes lots of detail to tailor it to Amadia and Cullen.
> 
> Also, I've done some artwork of Amadia in her dress for the ball. (I'm trying to do one for all my Inquisitors but she's the only one done.)
> 
> It's totally not based off of the "coronation" dress from "Anastasia." Shhhhh~ you don't know what you're talking about.

While having been raised to know how to deal with all sorts of nobles, the Game was a tiring charade for Amadia. It was one thing to be in the safety of her own family's estate with Free Marcher nobles. That crowd expressed their content (or  _dis_ content) bluntly and loudly. They could settle disputes with silly tourneys and cheese wheel races. It was another thing entirely to be among prideful Orlesians who wore masks literally and figuratively and who plotted over the scuffing of some noblewoman's shoes. She was polite and well-mannered by nature but even she could only take so much. It wore on her to smile and work her silver tongue, giving compliments to some who were far from deserving of them. She would charm with her grace, beauty, and mastery of the Orlesian tongue. But when she was supposedly out of earshot, they would whisper about her being a mage and a Free Marcher.

It was a relief to move past the sea of gossiping Orlesians and find the familiar, blond head of her commander and lover, like a beacon. She hoped for a little safe haven with him but was amused to see how some of the nobles had flocked to him like moths to a flame, fawning over his face and hanging on his every forced word. Cullen was clearly nervous, his mouth pressed into a hard line as his gaze flitted from noble to noble. His mouth jerked open for a moment and Amadia heard him ask if the man next to him had grabbed his bottom. She couldn't help but laugh to herself as she strode over, deeming it time to rescue her paramour from his fans.

“Are you married, Commander?” one of Cullen's admirers asked.

“Not yet,” Cullen replied, trying not to snap at these nobles. “But I am...” He trailed off at the sight of Amadia making her way to him, the golden and cream edges of her gown trailing behind her. The blue sash draped diagonally across her frame bounced at her swaying hip and slashed across the embellished, warm pink lace trimming of her dress. The sight seemed to rob him of his breath. He smiled at her gratefully as he finished his sentence. “...already taken.”

“Still single, then?” another admirer asked, following the commander's gaze mid-question to the approaching Inquisitor. As she reached them, the nobles took a moment to bow and mutter their greetings to Lady Inquisitor Trevelyan.

“I apologize for the intrusion. Unfortunately, the Inquisition has need of its commander,” Amadia said, her polite smile a vision of grace and purity. Her subtle wink to the commander, on the other hand, was playful and conspiratorial.

“Excuse me,” Cullen said to his gathering as Amadia urged him away by a gentle press of his arm. She wanted to giggle at what Cullen's admirers were whispering behind them. (“Do you think the commander meant...?” “It's hard to say.”)

Amadia led them to a spot further down on the railing overlooking the ballroom floor and Cullen let out a relaxed sigh. “Thank you,” he told her, relief palpable in his voice and an exasperated smile coming across his face.

“I thought I'd rescue you from the following you've attracted,” she commented mirthfully. “Who are all those people?”

“I don't know, but they won't leave me alone,” Cullen groaned. Amadia stifled a laugh at how much he sounded like a five-year-old boy.

“Not enjoying the attention, then?”

“Hardly. Anyway, yours--” Cullen realized how loudly he was talking and cleared his throat. He lowered his voice and dared to slide his hand down the railing to touch his fingertips to her hand. Any onlookers would be too far to see that their hands were touching. “Yours is the only attention worth having,” he murmured, his voice quieter and only for her ears.

She smiled, bowing her head to hide the flattered pinkness in her cheeks. “So, have you noticed anything out of the ordinary?”

“Not yet. It would be easier if people would stop talking to me.” Her eyebrow raised and he added, “Other people. Not you.”

“Good,” she said, smiling again. “Do you have any advice for me?”

“Orlesian social events don't fall within my area of expertise,” Cullen said. He eyed Josephine on the other side of the room, chatting with a pair of nobles. “There are few here we can trust. Be careful.” How he wanted to squeeze her hand then to show his concern for her.

“And who do you think the Inquisition should support?”

“Gaspard's claim to the throne is fair,” he answered. “Orlais needs someone capable of responding to the crisis at hand. A military-minded leader seems the best option.”

“Mmm,” she said, tucking it away in her mind to consider as she perused the palace.

She was content to stand with Cullen for the moment in comfortable silence as she watched the guests twirl on the dance floor to the beautiful music coming from the band. It stirred up fond memories of being home at the Trevelyan estate where she had learned the art of dancing. It was a practice that came to her naturally compared to her two siblings. From childhood, she loved how free and pretty she felt as she placed her steps and watched the ballroom whirl with each twirl. Dance lessons were the few moments where her mother would not nitpick at every detail in her daughter's behavior. Instead, she would encourage her talent with cries of “Wonderful, Amadia, darling! Just splendid!” The lessons also gave her opportunities to create pleasant memories with her siblings. She had guided her sister's awkward steps and acted as her brother's partner in place of the many he'd have to dance with as the Trevelyan heir. Her father would even find time to stop by. She found some of the most sentimental conversations with her father occurred when she would dance with him.

Ever since the family had discovered her talent for dancing, her family would urge her to dance with key nobles at their parties. She would smile and charm them as they danced, showering them with blunt and pretty compliments known to Marchers. She was oblivious to the enchanted stares men and women would cast upon her carefree and effortless dancing. Her mother never failed to take note of which admirers would make good marriage prospects. Her mother's determination to marry her off her children had Amadia rolling her eyes. Her motivation had doubled after the family had discovered Amadia's magical abilities. However, Amadia was much more interested in doing her duty to the family by dancing and talking off ears. Dancing, in particular, made her feel like everything a desirable noblewoman--no, a desirable  _woman_ \--should be in a life when her title was always soured by her status as a mage.

She idly wondered if Cullen was a dancer at all.

“I don't suppose you'd save a dance for me?” she asked hopefully, breaking the silence as she looked up at him.

“No. Thank you,” Cullen responded without thinking, his eyes still on the dance floor. His head snapped in her direction when he realized what he had just said.

He didn't miss the flash of disappointment in her eyes as her smile dropped. “Oh,” she said as she straightened, taking on her formal Inquisitor stance.

“No! I didn't mean to—Maker's breath,” Cullen said frantically, his eyes wide as he pressed his hand over her retreating one and tried to explain himself. “I've answered that question so many times I'm rejecting it automatically. I'm not one for dancing. Templars never attended balls.”

Fortunately, that pretty smile she wore around him returned, though not in full force as before. “I understand,” she said, the corners of her mouth raising higher to assure him, though not high enough to trick Cullen. “I should go,” she said after a moment. “We'll talk later.”

“I await your signal,” he murmured, lowering his head to her hand to plant a kiss there. He intended it to be both chivalrous and apologetic. Her cheeks filled with color before she pulled her hand away and left him with a smile.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. His stomach was still knotted with regret and shame at how  _sad_  she had looked when he refused her offer to dance. He would do her no credit on the dance floor with guests witnessing her choice of a dance partner: a non-noble who kept stepping on her feet. Even still, had he known dancing was that important to her...

His faithful stalkers approached him once more. Once again, he made an effort to make as little conversation as possible while still upholding his manners. In his mind, he refocused. He needed to deal with the people flocking to him and to be on alert for any hint of Corypheus or his agents. Most of all, Maker take him, he needed to build up some blighted courage to ask the woman he loved to dance.

* * *

Cullen watched with pride as the woman he loved revealed the duchess's crimes before the entire court. He watched as she tore Florianne down with a deadly mix of decorum and ferocity. He could see the expressions beneath the guests' masks as she rallied them to her cause, looks of belief and victory. His heart swelled with pride seeing her standing beside the three Orlesian leaders with a triumphant smile on her lips. The sight only reaffirmed that she was the perfect candidate to lead them all along, and he thought he couldn't be more in love with her.

It turned out that he could when he found her on the balcony at the far end of the ballroom, having spotted her gorgeous gown through the sea of nobles. She was leaning on the railing, her posture slumped and shaky by comparison to the proud one she carried herself with not long ago. He made himself known as he approached her.

“There you are,” he began. “Everyone's been looking for you.” He reached her side and found she was staring down at her hands. When she didn't respond, he continued, “Things have calmed down for the moment. Are you all right?”

She looked at him and didn't bother,  _couldn't_  bother to hide the exhaustion plain on her face. “I'm just worn out,” she replied. “Tonight has been...very long.” The last two words came out shaky, and he saw her look back down at her hands to hide the fatigue.

“For both of us,” he added, his eyes gauging her reactions. “I'm glad it's over,” he said with honest relief.

She couldn't even smile or speak. She continued to stare into the foggy water below. It was typically difficult for Cullen to tell just how weary she was. She hid the weight the title of Inquisitor bore on her so well that the untrained eye would never think she was burdened by it. It had only taken him a glance to see just how trying the night's events had been for her. He wanted nothing more than to take her back to her room so she could find some comfort in sleep.

“I know it's foolish, but I was worried for you tonight,” he murmured, placing his hand on her shoulder. She managed a flicker of a smile. It was not unappreciative but a flicker nonetheless, and she raised her far hand to his for a small second of contact.

He heard an applause from inside as the band changed tunes. Perhaps he could make her smile before the night was over after all, and without the eyes of the public critiquing them as a bonus.

“I may never have another chance like this, so I must ask,” he told her, smiling in anticipation.

It got her attention. She looked at him in puzzlement and slanted her head in curiosity. He took a few paces back and bent in a slight bow with his eyes holding hers with hope. She thought she saw the faintest hint of nervousness in his expression as well but his stance was confident.

“May I have this dance, my lady?” he asked as he extended his hand to her.

Amadia found herself straightening up in surprise, her eyes widening. A touched smile spread across her face. Cullen found her looking years younger, girlish even, as the wear from the night's trials vanished in the space of a breath.

“Of course,” she answered, her voice rising in an excited pitch. “I thought you didn't dance?”

She relished the feeling of his strong and gentle hands, one guiding her to him and the other keeping her close as it settled onto her waist. Both squeezed her affectionately as he looked at her and murmured, “For you, I'll try.”

She smiled and Cullen couldn't help but feel pleased with himself, even as he guided her into their first awkward step. He had no experience dancing, as he never had a teacher. The first time he ever had to dance with a girl was disastrous, full of frantic apologies and toes sore from missteps. His steps were slow, placed too tentatively in hopes of not repeating that same disaster now. He wondered if his pace would irritate the wonderful woman in his arms.

The smile on her face told him otherwise. She followed each slow, staccato lead with the same patience she exhibited each day. Each step she fell into with him was seamless, her fluidity a foil to his unsteadiness. Cullen felt self-conscious with her eyes set on his face. It didn't help that his eyes were flitting around everywhere from their toes to her face to inside the ballroom. But Amadia found it adorable and endearing. She knew how much Cullen cared about how he was perceived by other people. She could tell he was assessing every movement he made, every expression she made. She was far too touched by her thoughtful man taking the lead, putting his dignity on the line just to make her smile. To Cullen, it was worth it.

After a few moments when Cullen became comfortable with the rhythm, he decided to see if he could dance and talk at the same time. “How am I?” he said, glancing down at his feet again before looking up at her face for a verdict.

“Perfect,” she replied, a loopy smile pasted to her face. The way she stared at him suggested she was talking about more than just his dancing.

He laughed, his cheeks turning pink. “You're a poor judge of dance partners, Lady Trevelyan” he quipped.

“Perhaps. But I am an  _excellent_  judge of character, Ser Rutherford,” she said with a smirk. It was a rare expression of hers that always surprised and intrigued him. “And I like what I'm seeing,” she murmured, equal parts adoration and seduction.

He matched her smirk with his trademark one, happy that she appreciated his efforts. “If I may ask, what is it, pray tell, that my lady likes so much about dancing?”

She looked away and laughed. “I've always had a natural talent for it, as it turns out. It was the one thing I had over my older brother and sister.”

“The one thing?” Cullen asked. “I'm sure your brother and sister are fine individuals. But I'm certain there's more than one thing you're not giving yourself credit for there.”

“There wasn't much rivalry among my siblings and I,” Amadia explained. “We all knew our place, I suppose. The family expected rivalry between my sister and I, with our brother taking over the family. That left the choice of going to the Chantry or the Templars to us. Learning I was a mage sort of made that decision for both of us. Not to mention, we were sisters. My mother was quite disappointed that we didn't argue over each other's marriage prospects.”

Cullen thought he detected a hint of sadness when she spoke and he stayed silent for her to continue.

“Dancing made it easier to forget that the only the thing guests at our parties seemed to care about was that I was a mage,” she went on. “Even here, I pass by guests who tell me I'm the perfect gentlewoman. Yet they whisper about how my prospects are null and I shame my family for being a mage.” She let out a single laugh, sad and bitter. “As if I had a choice in that matter.”

“I'm sorry,” Cullen murmured, squeezing her closer. “I know having an affinity for magic can be difficult. I didn't realize  _how_  difficult it had been for you, being a noble after all.”

She smiled. “It's all right. I've made my peace with it. I may need to talk with them for the sake of the Inquisition, but none of them deserve my attention.”

She felt her body tip, gasping at the familiar pull of gravity as Cullen lowered her into a dip. His head blocked the moonlight that would have illuminated his smirk. “And now that I have  _all_  your attention?”

She took a moment to take in his face, realizing that this was the happiest she had felt all night. The weariness that the Game had left her like clouds after rain. She couldn't have been more touched that Cullen was putting aside any insecurity about this amusement she loved for her sake. She could see he had become a little more confident in the way that he dipped her. His smirk bordered on cockiness and it still took her breath away.

“Now, the only thing I want to think about is you,” she murmured, smiling back at him.

The corner of his mouth quirked up and he lowered himself to her for a kiss. The hand on his shoulder slid up to cup his face as he brought her back to her feet, his lips never disconnecting from hers.

Time seemed to slow as they continued to dance. They were content to sway with Amadia nestling her head into Cullen's shoulder. The commander was thankful that he didn't have to watch his feet in his poor attempt to mimic the steps of the nobles. Fighting and commanding were effortless dances for him. Coordinating strikes and soldiers came naturally to him. At least floating from side to side was something he could manage. It was especially easy with his beautiful Inquisitor resting peacefully against him.

A little too peacefully, he could tell as she grew heavier against him. He craned his neck and saw her eyelashes closed, her mouth relaxed and no longer curved into a smile. He chuckled and the rumble caused her to stir.

“You're falling asleep,” he murmured into her ear.

“Hm?” She blinked her eyes as she stared at him, her smile returning with the calm of sleep. “Oh, sorry,” she said, blushing that her noble discipline hadn't kept her from falling asleep like it usually did.

“It's quite all right,” Cullen said with a smile. “I rather enjoyed you resting there. I'm glad my shoulder was comfortable.”

Amadia laughed in response, his comment lessening the embarrassment she felt.

Cullen offered his arm to her. “Allow me to escort you to your room?”

She nodded with a smile, slipping her hand into the crook of his elbow as he led her from the balcony through the ballroom. They nodded to the gossiping nobles as they passed. They were too settled into their own little bubble to heed the whispers they left in their wake. (“The Inquisitor and her commander?!” “Do you think the Rutherfords are trying to enter the nobility through the Trevelyans?” “An ex-templar and a mage...that union will end in disaster.” “Of  _course_  a beau with an arse like that is only good enough for the Inquisitor...” “Oh, but you must admit they would make such beautiful children together.”)

When they reached Amadia's room, she turned her back to the door towards her dashing escort. “Thank you for walking me to my room...and for the dance,” she said with a smile.

“Anytime, my lady,” Cullen said, his fingertips sliding down the arm she had dropped from his elbow. They landed at her wrist. He felt the hand there brush his on its way to the nape of his neck to pull him in for a goodnight kiss.

The kiss was sweet and tender, lingering as the two lovers took advantage of the lack of eyes to spy on them in the hallway. When they pulled apart, their lips hovered so closely to each other that they could feel their breath on each other's lips. Their eyes locked and Cullen gulped as he looked into them, wondering what she was thinking.

Maker's breath, he  _loved_  her. He realized it weeks ago. He felt it every time he caught himself staring at her from across a room. His heart would skip a beat when he'd lay eyes on her and she'd smile back with color filling her cheeks. He was aware of the heat his hands could feel at her waist through the thin, luxurious fabric of her gown. He wanted to follow her into her bedroom, peel the tailored garment from her, and praise every coppered inch of skin with his lips. It wasn't the first time he had desired her but he always tried to push those thoughts down; Maker knew what she would think of him if she knew.

She meant more to him than any person he had ever been with and he wanted any intimacy between them, especially their first moment of it, to be special. He didn't know if she loved him back. Though he knew she cared for him and had always said so, he did not know what future she saw for them. He didn't know if she loved him back. He didn't want to think of how hurt he would feel if she didn't, especially after uniting with her in such a way. He needed to tell her. He needed to--

He came back to reality when a twitch in her face caught his eye: her lips raising in a smile. Her eyes twinkled in the torchlight as she murmured a 'Goodnight' to him. He could feel her breath on his lips as she articulated those two syllables. He whispered a 'Goodnight' of his own and she reached behind to turn the knob of her door. She stepped backwards into the room but her eyes didn't leave his until she closed the door completely and he was out of view.

Cullen loitered in front of her door for a moment. Her eyes had looked so beckoning that he almost stepped forward to follow her inside but his good senses bade him stop. He ran a hand over his hair and shook off the inappropriate thoughts as he made his way to his own bedroom.

Amadia pressed her back against the other side of her door as she hid her face in her hands and tried to remember to breathe. She had been so close to inviting him to stay the night but she backed out at the last moment. She feared it would be untoward and would fluster him into running away.

She giggled at how over the moon in love she was with this man. She knew she would have to tell him, and there would be plenty of time for intimacy if he desired it as much as she did. Her skin tingled with excitement and nervousness at the thought. For now, she was content to slip out of the gold and pink gown and collapse in bed. She had the memory of dancing with Cullen to help her fall asleep.

When they returned to Skyhold, her face glowed as she recounted their dance together. Cullen decided that when he saw the wear and tear becoming too much, he'd help her forget with an offering of a dance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to my best friend socalkitty on Tumblr! She was a major help in correcting all this writing that I did when I was fighting sleep and this chapter would have been a hot mess of grammatical errors without her beta'ing. :)
> 
> The end paragraph is referring to the conversation you have after the ball, when the Inquisitor's all happy that "at least there was dancing." I realized it may not sound clear that it's talking about that conversation but it's because I didn't want to focus on that conversation too much. She just sounds so happy when she says it that I couldn't leave it out, and I imagine Cullen is really pleased with himself that he was able to help her make that happy memory. :)


	4. Calm Before the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen comforts his wife after she loses her temper in front of her advisors at the Winter Palace. Inspired by the Trespasser DLC trailer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is unbeta'd as I just needed to exorcise this in all my excitement for the upcoming DLC. 
> 
> The way I imagine this in context is the Inquisition meets with the court and then debriefs after when the Inquisitor screams about wanting the world to stay fixed and stabs the table. She flees to her room after when this chapter takes place.
> 
> Amadia, in case y'all are confused by her dress rather than uniform, is the same one she wore in the chapter Dare to Dance.

She had expected this meeting at the Winter Palace to be difficult. It had been just as she imagined and yet worse all at once. Not only did she meet conflict from the court like she expected but a loss of faith in her organization. Her advisors had presented her options but it only sent the anger she kept under lock and key over the edge. It led to her stabbing a blade through the map and table (one the Inquisition would have to replace later). The Inquisitor fled to her guest room until she could calm herself, muttering a quick excuse.

Here she was, pacing the floor in the chambers she was sharing with Cullen. She should have felt ashamed for having lost her temper in front of her advisors. Even if they were her closest friends, she shouldn't have lashed out in front of them. Regardless, she couldn't find the energy to care.

For two years, she had worked hard, so damn hard, to solve Thedas's problems. But no matter how many weeds she pulled out, two more grew in its place. Why couldn't the world stay peaceful for five minutes? Why couldn't these nations accept that the Inquisition was necessary to keep that peace? She was so blighting tired and angry but most of all, she was afraid. She felt sick from the way the Anchor would thrash her around with a will of its own when she least expected it. On top of that, the way the court had sneered at her and the murderous looks of the Qunari made her stomach churn. She raised an arm to look at the mark and wanted to vomit at the sight of it snaking like webs up her arm. She buried her face in her hands, unable to look at it any longer. She felt the fire in her blood ebbing away into a cold weight, and all she felt was doom. Without warning, she began to sob into her hands, and she made no effort to stop.

“Amadia.”

She shot up, too surprised to think of hiding her face. She relaxed a little at the welcoming sight of her husband, her shoulders deflating. She continued to bawl, unable to stop.

“Oh, love...” he said as he went to her, pulling her into a tight embrace.

She clutched herself to him, burying her face in the front of his uniform. Her lover's heart tightened at the feeling. In the two years they had been together, the commander had rarely seen the Inquisitor cry. It had taken some time for her to stop hiding her tears from him. It was like her to not wish to burden anyone else with her pains. Over time, he had managed to take down those barriers she placed around herself. He held her like all the times her duty had become too much. He smoothed his fingers along her back, strumming soothing chords along the stressed muscles. He hoped it would calm her as it had done time and time before.

“I...” she began, her voice shaking, “I don't know what to do anymore.”

Cullen lifted a hand to stroke her hair, and Amadia closed her eyes to savor the comforting feeling. She tried not think that it may be one of the last times she would ever be able to enjoy his presence. “We'll find a way,” he murmured. “We always do.”

Amadia laughed in spite of herself. “I don't know if we will this time. Thedas seems to want us gone as much as the Qunari do, and the mark is trying to kill me.”

She didn't miss the tightening of his arms around her, and Amadia couldn't help but pull him closer as well.

Worry had been festering in the pit of her stomach. She feared the future of the coming storm, the Inquisition, her life, and the lives of her loved ones. She didn't want to talk about it and she knew her husband didn't either, but she could no longer keep silent about it.

“Cullen...if I don't make it...”

“No,” he declared.

“Cullen, please. This is something I need to say.”

She took his sigh as one of resignation and continued. “I don't know what will happen to the Inquisition but I want it to survive,” she started. “You know better than anyone the good we do. As much as the world may hate us, we may be the only thing standing between its survival and its defeat. If I'm gone, please continue fighting for it. In the event we can't save it, we need to see about getting as many of us out as we can. We need to talk to talk with Leliana and Josephine and perhaps even our friends in my party to come up with a plan.”

The commander's nod was an uncomfortable, rigid jerk accompanied with a sour grimace.

“I will send my family a letter,” she continued. “Should the Inquisition fall, they need to get out of Ostwick. I don't know where they would go. To the Anderfels, perhaps, where I hope the Qunari would not go. Or they could take one of their ships and hope they land somewhere without this danger. Perhaps my father will have a better idea. I don't expect you to go to them. I expect you'd go to your family in South Reach, and my family will be glad to take them along if they choose. But please let my family know when they should leave and give them any counsel they need.”

“I will,” Cullen said.

Amadia nodded, pulling away from his chest and staring at his uniform. She studied the weaving of the red fibers as they embraced each other in silence.

“I never thought I would die like this,” she thought out loud, her husband stiffening at the morbidity of it. “I...” She stopped herself and sighed with exhaustion. “I thought I would die in the Circle, perhaps in battle, perhaps of old age. But here, I thought we would continue to do great things with the Inquisition and our people. I thought that we would all find some peace and happiness in the face of struggle. I thought that...that perhaps you and I would be ready to start a family. I wanted to see you be a father and raise our children. When we were too old or injured to lead anymore, I wanted to live a quiet life in a cottage with you until we were grey.” Fresh tears stung at her eyes. “How could I wish for those things to be true with the jobs we have, when this mark sealed my fate?”

“Stop,” her husband commanded in a voice that seemed to crack. The strange sound drew Amadia's attention. Cullen lifted her chin and her eyes met his, full of faith, determination, but also tears. The Inquisitor started, having rarely seen her husband shed a tear. “I still stand by what I said. We will find a way,” he said, his throat tight as he tried to keep his voice from breaking. “We did with Orlais, with Corypheus, with Hakkon, with the Titan, and we can do it again.” He brought his hand to cup her cheek, brushing the tears away with his thumb. “I refuse to let you die, not after everything we've been through, not when there's so much left.”

She gave him a smile through her tears, cradling the hand on her face with one of her own. The fear he tried to hide in his eyes was like her own. She knew he was trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to convince her. “I hope you're right,” she said.

Cullen only hummed in assent and planted a kiss to his wife's forehead, continuing to hold her close. He etched her scent, her hair's silky texture, her soft skin, and the tears on her cheeks into his memory. He pressed her to him, almost afraid that letting her go would mean she would disappear. He thought he had been afraid when he feared Corypheus would end her. Now, he could almost taste their last moments together. As much as he convinced himself that she would survive, he feared he would be wrong. The idea of her not being in his arms like she was now, warm and alive and drawing breath, threatened to tear him apart.

His wife pulled away for a moment, her fingers swiping at the wetness on her face. “Look at me. I need to get back to them and I'm a mess,” Amadia said, laughing.

Cullen smiled and lowered his face closer to hers, beckoning her to raise her eyes to his. “You are as lovely as ever, Lady Trevelyan.”

Lady Amadia blushed under his tender gaze. She raised a hand to his cheek, feeling the pleasant scratch of his stubble on her palm. She told him in kind, “And you still look as breathtaking in this uniform as the first time I saw you in it.”

Cullen laughed. “I admit, I'm glad you picked this dress to wear. I love this one on you.”

His wife smiled and lowered her head in response, color filling her cheeks. She looked up at him again when he brought a hand to her waist and the other to hold her hand.

“Dance with me,” he requested.

“To what music?” the lady inquisitor asked, an eyebrow raised in amusement.

“To the music of our hearts,” her dance partner exclaimed. Lord Cullen Trevelyan bowed at the waist, waving his proffered hand in a flourish. Amadia scoffed in an attempt to contain her laughter. “Is that not what Varric writes in his books?”

“I wouldn't know,” Amadia replied.

“Cassandra tells me differently.”

“I have no idea what you mean.”

They were both finally smiling again. They held each other close as they swayed in the middle of their guest chambers, their feet lazy and aimless. With eyes closed, they savored each other's warmth and could not bear to part. While they kept silent, they uttered endless litanies of prayer in their hearts. They could only hope the Maker would find it in His will to ensure their survival and their happy future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I plan to write chapters of the same situation with all my Inquisitors and their LIs. :)


	5. The First of Many

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen and Amadia's first night of intimacy begins with a bottle of wine, though not in the way most people would expect.
> 
> My interpretation of the love scene from the main game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuut.
> 
> Also, there is a brief mention of a character named Graham in here. I haven't written anything with him yet but he was a Templar. When he was old enough, he joined the Templars in the Ostwick Circle and Amadia became his charge. Despite how sour mage and Templar relations are thought to be, they became best friends and managed to still find a balance between their relationship as friends and their relationship as mage and Templar. Graham died getting Amadia out of the Circle when it fell.

Their first night together began with a bottle of wine, though perhaps not in the way most people expect.

He should've anticipated that he would stutter. But he had spent so many weeks piecing together what he wanted to say. He wanted to tell her how he envisioned their future together and how much he  _wanted_  that future with her. He wanted to tell her how he amazed he was at how he could feel this way about her in such a short amount of time. He found the words he had constructed with so much care had fled. His mouth struggled to shape those memorized thoughts.

“I want--”

Amadia couldn't stifle the gasp that burst from her when she felt her hand tilt a bottle behind her. It crashed to the ground with a shatter. She hoped it wasn't important and that she could replace it for him. She looked back at him and found him staring at her, his eyes intense as they locked with hers. His lips parted and Amadia swore she saw the pupils in his eyes dilate. She realized as his leg shifted against hers how close he was. She was almost sitting on his desk while his domineering form pinned her with his gaze.

She was  _so damn close_ he could smell her. A fragrant oil wafted from her pulse points and mixed in with the natural scent of her. He felt her knees wobbling against his and felt his breath hitch as he looked at her face. Amadia watched as his eyes traveled to her full lips, parted just so as she waited on bated breath. She gulped and saw Cullen's eyes dart to her throat. They followed the movement before flicking back up to her eyes. She stared back into them, the eyes of this man she had realized she had been in love with for weeks.

 _Take me_. 

It was as if he had read her mind. His blood hot, he swept an arm over the desk and cleared it in one fell swoop. Amadia's jaw dropped at the sight and sound of his set-up crashing to the ground, and the smell of ink hit her nose. But as she turned back to Cullen and saw him smirking, her gape turned into a breathless smile. A laugh escaped her at his spontaneity. He leaned forward and she hopped back onto the desk. Thrill after thrill entered her as her commander hovered over her. When she laid down, Cullen followed her and brought himself flush against her. The way he was looking at her...his gaze was so tender and his smile so soft. She brought her hands up to cup his face. She felt warmth flood her heart as she thanked the Maker for this bright light He had led her to.

Cullen always cherished the touch of Amadia's hands. Her hands performed so many grueling tasks each day. They closed rifts and wrote reports and cast magic and twirled a staff. But no matter how many times he had seen her hands rough from use, the only word he could describe them with was  _gentle_. He felt the callouses on her hands as she brushed the thumb of one hand over his cheekbones. The rough skin of her fingers scratched against his temple. The tips combed through the hair beginning there. He had been a Templar. He had served,  _believed_ , in the order that had done so many wrongdoings upon people gifted with magic. People like  _her_. Her hands should have been at his throat. She should have been spitting insults at him. Yet she held him like he would break and looked at him like she was seeing sunlight for the first time. How could he think of her hands, of  _her_ , as anything less than gentle?

“I love you,” he finally told her, losing himself in the citrine of her eyes.

It was as if the weight that had settled in his gut over the past few weeks. He had been sick with worry that the ugliness within him would chase her away. She seemed to search his eyes for a moment, savoring the words before her smile lifted that much more. She pulled him closer to her, her lips tickling his. She looked him back in the eyes, whispering, “I love you too.”

It was a surprise and the most natural thing in the world.

Cullen thought his heart would burst. With their walls down, the kiss that followed was eager and happy. The Inquisitor's hands fell from her commander's face. She decided to snake her arms around his neck and pull him close. He went to lower himself further against her. But she broke the kiss with a quiet, abrupt “Ow!”

He pulled back, looking down to see a dent in her top recovering and returning to flatness. He muttered a quick apology, sitting up so he could remove his armor. Amadia sat up too, stopping his hand with hers for a moment. She kissed him, and Cullen moved his arms back so she could push the mantled coat from his shoulders. He let himself melt into her kiss as her fingers worked the straps of his armor. She eased off his vambraces and pauldrons. She ignored the unglamorous clatter of the metal on the floor. The chestplate followed after once she had gotten his red cloth covering off. His black shirt remained and Amadia tugged it over his head, revealing his chiseled chest to her. She reddened in an instant. She had always wondered what he looked like beneath his clothes and armor. But seeing it now only made her want to get him out of his clothes quicker. She wanted to feel those muscles against her.

While he had her distracted, Cullen tugged off his gloves and cupped her face in warm, naked hands. He leaned forward to kiss her again, lowering her back onto the desk. Amadia's hands roamed over his chest, feeling the muscled ridges as she went along. Cullen groaned under her touch, his nerves buzzing beneath her hands. He felt himself grow harder in his breeches. As if sensing his discomfort, he felt her hands loosen the laces of his pants.

“Wait,” he said, stopping her hand with his. He needed to make sure he wasn't pushing her. He needed to know she wanted this as much as he did, and he needed to hear it from her lips. “Are you sure you want to...?”

Her hand withdrew from his waistband. He thought she would say 'no' and prepared himself to comfort her and calm himself. But then her hand moved to her collar.

“Absolutely,” she breathed. Her fingers undid the first closure. He thought himself a boy for getting so excited at seeing another inch of her skin. His eyes pasted to the movements of her hands. They unbuckled each closure of her top and revealing trace after trace of naked copper skin. When she undid the last one, the top opened. It fell away from her front. Cullen saw the plane of her tummy and the simple, white breast band she wore, bordered with silver satin. He hovered above her for a moment, pushing himself up on straightened arms to get a better look. He drank her in, his eyes tracing the swell of her breasts and the dip of her navel. His lover released a breathy laugh. His eyes traveled back to her face to see her turning her head away. She was flushing in embarrassment and covering her eyes. He pried her fingers away.

“You're beautiful,” he told her. He savored her cheeks becoming that much redder when he kissed her again. This time, he trailed down her chin and throat to begin a journey down her form. He gave soft, teasing kisses along the column of her throat and in the valley between her breasts. The brushes of his lips were so light they were hardly there. All Amadia could do was moan and lock her fingers in his hair.

His fingers traced her sides, beginning at the curve of her waist and trailing to her back. Amadia leaned back on her hands as his fingertips explored. She felt them find the clasp of her breast band. With some trial and error on her lover's part, she felt it loosen and fall away. Her nipples tightened as the cool air caressed them. She tried her hardest not to look away as Cullen stared at her. His jaw had dropped as his eyes raked over the mounds. His eyes darted back up to her, smiling into the kiss he gave her as he started his journey again. His lips traveled along the curve of a breast. His lover cried out when he captured a nipple in his mouth. He suckled and swirled his tongue around the tip. His hands cradled her breasts, kneading them in his hands and testing their weight as he pushed them up. He loved how her chest heaved with each gasp. The plush flesh pushed against his lips with every pleasured gasp. His mouth kissed along to the other breast. His teeth grazed the skin before capturing the nipple there again. He laved the skin there with his tongue before his mouth continued its journey downwards.

Cullen adored how the gasps caused her belly to flutter against his lips. Her skin was warm and soft against his mouth. His lips reached her waistband and he stopped for a moment, sitting up and taking a foot into his lap. It trembled in his palms but he ignored it for now. He gauged her reaction in case she was becoming uncomfortable. His fingers worked at loosening the laces of her boot, and Amadia took the time to watch his expression. It was full of a concentration and patience he reserved for her. She felt the desire in her only curling more in her belly. She felt the boot loosen, and Cullen peeled it off along with the sock beneath. His fingers traced along the bottom curve of her naked foot. Amadia twitched and pulled away, giggling at the sensation.

“Why, my lady, I didn't know you were ticklish,” Cullen teased, smirking with mischief.

Amadia sighed. “It's true, and you will abuse it, now that you know.”

“Perish the thought,” Cullen said, that smirk only growing as he brought the other foot into his lap. His fingers worked at the laces until he slid that off too. That foot shook more than the other and he finally asked, “You're still shaking. Are you all right? Should I stop?”

“No!” Amadia blurted, quicker and louder than she intended to. “Maker, no,” she repeated, softening her voice. 

With her reactions...he had wondered if she had ever given herself to someone before. It was no secret that the mages found comfort in each other in dark corners of the Circle. They grew up learning about the pleasures of the body somehow. Amadia might have not been an exception to this. But she  _did_  come form a noble background with a mother persistent in obtaining a spouse for her children. Perhaps Amadia had been saving herself for marriage? But here she was, writhing in his hands with delight. She didn't seem  _opposed_  to what they were doing...

Cullen shook his head. He needed to just  _ask._ “Have...have you...?”

Amadia gulped. She didn't know what he'd think. “Yes,” she muttered, timidity overtaking her. “Once, and it was awkward.”

For a moment, her mind flashed back to a decade past. She and Graham had given themselves to each other in an abandoned room in the Circle. Their liaison had been borne of a mutual, young curiosity of carnal pleasures. They might have been too scared to do it, had their friendship not been so deep. It had been well and good that they had trusted each other enough. But neither knew what they were doing and it was a wonder they had been...successful at all.  _This_  was different.  _This_ was something she had ached for since she realized she was in love with Cullen. She feared her paramour would find her completely inadequate in these matters. She wanted to give him as much pleasure as he was giving her.

“I'm worried I don't know what I'm doing,” Amadia admitted in honesty. 

“Darling,” he responded with a chuckle, planting a kiss to the top of her foot, “you don't  _have_  to do anything. Maker knows what you do to me, and without even trying...” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. He nodded his head to the door. “Out  _there_ , you have to do something. You have to do  _everything_. With me, I want...I want you to feel...I want you to be free of all that.”

Amadia couldn't help but smile, and she sent another thought of thanks to the Maker.

She almost couldn't handle it when he climbed up to meet her face-to-face. His eyes focused on hers until he greeted her with a kiss. His hands traveled down, brushing her nipples on the way to the waist of her pants. He stopped and looked up into her eyes for permission. Her nod was all he needed to unlace her breeches. Amadia lifted her hips in the air when the fabric slackened from them. It allowed Cullen to pull them down along with her smalls. He loved seeing the stretch of her copper legs revealed to him in that swift movement. He helped her maneuver them until there wasn't a single thread of fabric on her body.

Cullen sat back on his heels, studying his lover's new form. The candlelight showed off the round swells of her breasts and the flare of her hips. He also noticed the earthy brown color of the curls between her legs. Her skin seemed to shine like a new copper coin, brown and smooth. He noticed now the scars she had been attaining since joining the Inquisition. He saw where a rogue dagger had cut above her right knee and where an arrow had notched itself below her rib cage. They were reminders of all the times she survived and he found her more beautiful and wonderful for it. 

His lips began at her knee this time, kissing up the creamy, soft inside of her thigh. Amadia's sighed, letting her head fall back as his lips brushed against the skin, too much for her to look at. She felt his thumb push back the hair between her legs and she gasped at the contact. His warm breath huffed onto her bud and she realized what he was going to do. 

“No, Cullen, you don't have t— _nghh!”_

His tongue was already on her clitoris, licking a stripe up and down it before his lips closed around it to suck. He smiled against her slit as he continued to lap at her. Pride rushed through him as her fingers tangled in his hair. Amadia threw her head back, grinding it against the wood as she felt pleasure shoot through her. She had never felt anything like this. No one had ever licked her down there before and the feeling of Cullen's tongue on her sensitive nub was too much. She tried to wiggle away but the commander grabbed her. He gripped his hands around the top of her thighs to keep her still as he gave her a long lick from bottom to top. She could only writhe under his ministrations, moaning to the ceiling. She hoped she wasn't alerting everyone in Skyhold of what she and the commander were doing.

“Cullen, please!” she cried.

Cullen stopped, giving her a last gentle lick which made her shudder before he looked up at her.

“I want...I want you,” she said, trying to catch her breath.

He looked at her for a moment, committing her pleased, dazed expression to memory. She smelled and tasted divine, and he couldn't wait to oblige her further. “Give me a moment, my love,” he murmured, keeping eye contact with her as he placed a sweet kiss on her knee.

He turned his attention to his boots, pivoting so one foot hung from the desk and the other supported him on the edge. He worked at the laces in the back and the buckles in the front. Amadia sat up and studied him, seeing him work his foot out of the shoe with care. She took a moment to lean her cheek against his shoulder and her lover couldn't hide his smirk at the contact.

“Why in the world are your boots so complicated?” she quipped, to which her lover only chuckled in response.

Her idle fingers traced over his far shoulder. Her eyes wandered over the curves of his toned arms, going up until she was looking at his neck. He had kissed her there earlier and she wondered if he would have the same reaction.

She leaned forward and sat up on her knees. She hung onto his shoulders as her lips planted a hesitant kiss in the hollow beneath his ear. His smirk and hum of pleasure encouraged her and she ventured down his neck with her kisses. Her hand encountered his muscled belly, her fingertips touching taut cloth. With hesitation, she slid her fingers further down and felt the head of his hardness. She watched as Cullen sucked in a breath and stilled, his hands frozen on the buckle he was working on. Amadia looked at him, his lips parted and his eyes glazed over in bliss. Her heart hammered in her chest. She bit her lip in anticipation as her nimble fingers undid the laces of his pants and reached inside.

Cullen released a throaty moan as his eyes squeezed shut and his head fell back. The sight of her beloved commander unraveling from her simple touch sent a thrill through her. She had cupped him in her palm, smoothing his erection down to the tip. He was warm and hard as stone in her hand, and the hot desire to feel him fill her speared her and surprised her. She felt slickness coat her palm at the end. She smoothed it up along the length of him, her eyes intent on the slack face of her lover.

“Amadia...” he moaned, his shuddered breaths filling the silence of his office.

She was so entranced by his expression that she jumped when she felt his fingers caress her between the legs. She gasped, closing her eyes for a moment as she felt her nerves buzz as his fingers traced her seam along the lips. Cullen's fingers slid along the seam with ease. Her wetness allowed his fingers to slip along her slit. She shut her eyes, focusing on the sensation and petting Cullen, when she felt his hand stop hers. When she opened her eyes, she found Cullen staring at her, his eyes darkened with desire. He leaned forward to press his lips to hers, and Amadia heard the rustling of cloth as he shifted to remove his pants. She felt herself lowered back onto the desk. When she opened her eyes, Cullen was hovering up above her as naked as she was. She drunk him in for a moment. His buff arms were pronounced as they framed themselves around her. His sculpted belly tensed with every rough breath. The muscles of his thighs contracted to hold himself above her. His cock stood proud and at attention. Amadia saw a patch of hair surrounding the base, a shade darker than the hair on his head. It disappeared from sight as he let his weight settle against her a little. The couple let out a groan as they felt their bodies mold to each other. Amadia's legs welcomed Cullen's hips as they fell against hers. She gasped at the feeling of his erection brushing her entrance.

“Are you ready, my love?” her lover asked, a bead of sweat trickling down the side of his face.

“Yes. Please...I've wanted you like this for so long...” she breathed, shivering in anticipation of what was to come. 

Cullen let out a breathy, relieved laugh, showing all his teeth in his wide smile. “As have I,” he admitted, his eyes and gaze so soft as he gazed at her she thought she might cry. He lowered his face to hers and gave her a lingering kiss, nuzzling his nose against hers when he pulled away. “If it becomes uncomfortable...if you want me to stop--”

“I'll tell you,” Amadia responded, giving him a reassuring smile.

He smiled at her and gave her another kiss, chaste in comparison to how their bodies connected below. “You are a wonder,” he murmured. She felt him reach between them and sucked in a breath as she felt the head push into her entrance. With a look of concentration, her commander sheathed himself inside her with care. 

Amadia gave out a surprised gasp at the intrusion. Despite how wet she was, it still hurt to feel herself stretched like this. Her fingers tightened where they cupped Cullen beneath his ears. They only relaxed when he stopped moving.

“Are you all right?” Cullen murmured. His eyebrows knit together in worry as he assessed his love's pained expression. He brought a hand up to cup her cheek, his thumb stroking the bone there in comfort.

“Yes,” she responded, relaxing as she leaned into his touch. “It's just...it's been years.”

Cullen gave her a tender smile, relieved she wasn't hurt. “It has for me too.”

She planted a sweet, reassuring peck on his lip and tried shifting her hips. It drew him further into her and Cullen hissed at the feeling of him further wrapped in her heat. Amadia found the pain had ebbed away. She felt that long-forgotten pleasure beginning to bloom deep within her. Cullen felt her legs come up to wrap around his middle. He cherished the feeling of her drawing him in further and his hips flush against hers. He obliged her and pistoned against her with gentleness, locking his eyes with hers. He watched as her face relaxed and her head lolled back against the desk. He let himself rock into her a little faster, listening to her groans. He watched her eyes close and mouth hang open. Her head fell back more and it exposed the column of her neck. Cullen took the opportunity to lave her neck with kisses. He tasted salt from the sweat beginning to coat the skin. He trailed down the slick skin. He bent to taste her along her collarbone and between her breasts while continuing to pump. Amadia's hands tangled in his hair and scrabbled at the edge of the desk, holding on as he suckled her mounds.

Cullen overloaded her senses. The heady scent of him filled her nose, colored by the sweat that was glistening off every inch of him now. She could hear him panting and groaning as he ravished her, and it made the blood in her hotter. Oh, how he was touching her! She never knew her breasts were so sensitive. The feeling of his tongue laving every inch of them made her nipples tighten. Below, he made her feel so full and he was brushing that delicious spot she had discovered in her younger years. It was what she had always caught herself thinking about when she imagined doing this with him. She marveled at how perfect this was, never knowing she could feel so elated and warm. He had told her he loved her and that only made her hold him closer. She never thought love would be a possibility for her. She had been a Circle mage. She had conceded to a life dedicated to teaching others how to harness their abilities. Love was the missing element in her only other liaison. It was that element that was bringing her to the brink faster than she thought possible.

Cullen had only been with one other woman before. It was back in Kirkwall when the Templars had treated him at the Blooming Rose for a night. It wasn't something he had wanted. He protested it when they took him there. But they wouldn't take no for an answer, so he went to the young lady they bought for him. It hadn't been as bad as he thought it would be. She could tell he was uncomfortable. So she gave him an emotional connection and lessons in carnal pleasure to help him settle down. The commander was sure he would be floundering with the Inquisition. But from the courtesan, he had learned all the ways he could pleasure a woman. He was thankful for that education now.

He had to admit that a sense of pride and power simmered in the back of his mind. The cause: watching the powerful, intimidating Inquisitor writhe beneath his touch. But most of all, there was wonder. Not a day had gone by since they met that he hadn't ached for her. It was a chaotic time, and he needed her to care for him as much as he did for her before he could commit to her with his body. He knew the sting would be too much if she didn't. But she told him she loved him, and he could feel tears pricking at the back of his eyes as the words echoed in his head.  _She loves me...she loves me...she loves me...and I love her._ He wanted to show her. He wanted to make her feel as amazing as she was making him. He wanted no part of her untouched, and he wanted his mouth on every inch of her. He wanted her to lose herself with him in this private space. With him, she didn't have to be the Inquisitor with everything under control. He had wanted to lose himself within her the moment he entered her. She was so wet that he had slipped within her in one easy push, and she was so hot around him. Her walls clutched at his aching cock and it felt better than anything he had daydreamed. He needed to hold on for her. She needed to come first.

It seemed she would sooner than he thought. Her moans were getting higher and louder, and he found his own noises rising with hers. Her back was arching more, her breasts presented before him as her body began to bow. He had brought her to the edge, and her grip tightened on him and the desk as she tried to focus on going over it.

Cullen saw the struggle on her face, her eyebrows knit and her eyes shut tight. One thing more and she would be undone. “Tell me, love. Tell me where to touch you,” he commanded. 

“I need...ungh...” Cullen felt her legs tighten around him. She stopped thrusting back against him and switched to rocking her clit against him. She moaned, trying to find the right rhythm and pressure against him in desperation. Determined to bring her there, he brought one hand to the curve of her back to arch her body towards him. The other hand gripped her ass, holding onto her as he changed his motion. He focused on rubbing himself up and down against her clit, his movements within her shallow now.

Amadia released a loud throaty moan, already rising in pitch. “Oh, yes!” she cried, holding on as he held her tight to him and ground against her. Cullen groaned at the sight before him. His lover's body was in a curve as her chest rose before him, bouncing with each little movement. Her eyes closed as her head fell back, the top of her head inches from the desk's surface. Her hands held onto the edges of the desk, letting her concentrate on pulling him in with her legs.

He could feel her quaking. Her body shook under the strain of clutching to him and the concentration of reaching her peak. Her channel was twitching around his cock. She was so close. He looked to her face, her mouth open and gasping. Her eyes shut tight, and his eyes traveled down to watch her body. Her chest heaved with pants and her whole body glistened in the candlelight as it sweat coated it. He thought he couldn't find more ways to see the Inquisitor as beautiful. Yet here, he found himself adding another unforgettable memory to look back on. She was writhing and moaning beneath him, and he was overcome by her loveliness.

“Cullen!” she sobbed, taking him from his thoughts. Her hands reached out, groping for him, any part of him. Her hand found his chest and Cullen leaned down into her touch. He brought himself flush against her once more.

“I'm here, love,” he cooed, bringing his forehead to hers.

“Oh, I need...Cullen, take me!” she cried, throwing her arms around him and clinging onto him.

He obliged, capturing her lips in a kiss as he stopped his rocking motion and proceeded to pound into her. Amadia cried out, and Cullen felt her tightening even more around him as her wails rose in pitch. He buried his face in her neck, kissing and sucking the skin there hard and tasting the salt of her sweat. Amadia's fingers were so tight in his hair that the knuckles blanched. She felt her nerves on edge. His cock hit the perfect spot and all the sudden, that white light was all she saw. Her insides fluttered around him a few times before drawing in tight around the man she loved. Cullen felt her body bow up into him, and he hovered over her to watch her come undone. She screamed as the pleasure overtook her. Cullen kept up his thrusts as her wet passage worked his hard cock. He made the pleasure last for her as her body twitched upwards a few times before melting onto the desk and in his arms.

Cullen laid there with his lover for a moment as she tried to catch her breath. Her eyes closed and her head fell back against the desk. Cullen kissed her, planting light, chaste kisses along her jaw and nose. He felt Amadia's gentle hands cup his face as she murmured, “Your turn.”

He laughed at her quick consideration and gave her an adoring kiss. He moved within her once again, her core slippery and slick from orgasm, as he chased his own orgasm. Amadia's body was sensitive from her peak. She moaned as Cullen's movements rekindled the flame all over again. He wasn't controlling himself for her pleasure anymore. He growled and grunted into her neck as he made his own chase for climax. His lover met his thrusts and did her best to wrap her shaky legs around him again. He focused on her moans, the sounds of their bodies moving together...

That's when his ears caught a strange sound of clinking metal from outside.

“Wait, wait...” he said, forcing himself to stop. Amadia stifled a whine at the sudden lack of movement. “Do you hear something?" 

The two of them stilled and tilted their heads, eyes shifting as they tried to determine what the sound was. Their eyes widened as they realized it was footsteps approaching the middle door.

Cullen pulled himself from Amadia, both making a small noise as he withdrew from her. He hopped off the desk and snatched his coat, fishing a key from an inside pocket and all but sprinting to the door. As quietly as he could, Cullen locked the door. He hoped the intruder on the other side was not alerted to the their presence.

Amadia sat up, grabbing Cullen's coat and throwing it on. She pinched it closed with her hands in the front to give her some coverage. The little post-orgasmic waves were fading but ever present within her. She couldn't help but take in the sight of her naked lover listening by the door. She had a better view now that he was off her body, and she saw that the many years of training had chiseled him like a statue. She wouldn't be able to take the focused gaze she loved so much. She would want to get beneath his clothes the minute she saw it. She shuddered as she imagined his gorgeous back muscles shifting as he fought in battle and made love to her. She knew she should chastise herself for staring so luridly at his toned backside. But, especially given what they had just done, the thought wouldn't come.

She reddened as his eyes took on that focused gaze and he braced his hands against the door should it open by chance. Cullen wanted to make sure he was ready for anything. He would be mortified if one of his soldiers had caught him indisposed. But he wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he couldn't protect Amadia's honor. That mattered much more than his own embarrassment.

Jim's voice called out for the commander on the other side, and the door shook a few times as he tried to get inside. They heard him sigh before heading the back the way he came. Cullen and Amadia let out a sigh of relief... 

...which is when they heard a voice approaching from one of the side doors.

“Jim, is the commander in?!” a male voice called.

“I don't think so! This door's locked over here!” Jim replied.

The voice was too close and Amadia gasped as the handle creaked. On reflex, her hand shot out and in the next moment, a large block of ice encased the door. The couple heard a few clicks as the scout tried to move the handle. Only a moment later they heard him exclaim “Andraste's tits, that handle is fucking cold! And...do you smell something, Jim?”

“Not on my end!”

Two sniffs. “Hm...oh well. I don't know about you, but if the commander's not in, I say we head to the tavern.”

“Alright. Let's go.”

The footsteps retreated. When they were finally out of earshot, only then did the lovers inside relax. Cullen stood up straight, and turned around to see his lover scooting to as far to the edge of the desk as possible. Her hand swiped at the desk's surface. She tried not to get any more of her wetness on the desk but she had a feeling the attempt was futile.

She looked back up at the commander who was eyeing the frozen side door with amusement. She felt her face grow warm as he turned back to her and she gave an embarrassed laugh. “Sorry,” she offered with a sheepish smile. “I can melt it down if you like.” 

“Perhaps in a moment,” her paramour responded, smirking and giving her a once-over. He savored the sight of her nude, save for his trademark vest, on his place of work. “I must admit you're more appetizing to see on my desk than my reports,” he murmured as he strode towards her. Amadia didn't miss the confident swagger in his walk. “I'd be much more motivated to do my work.”

Amadia hummed as Cullen stepped between her legs. He let his hands wander beneath the now open vest to hold her waist and draw his hands up her sides. “Perhaps you'll find me on your desk more often, then,” she purred. She let her arms wind around his neck. “It's important to keep my commander motivated.”

“I would like that,” Cullen said, the corner of his mouth rising a little higher. “Thinking of you when you're away or doing your duties helps me most days. But seeing you does wonders for my morale.”

“I can see that,” Amadia teased as her eyes dared to dart down between his legs for a moment. His cock was already twitching back to life.

Cullen shook his head, a breathy laugh on his lips, and pulled her flush against him as he leaned in for a kiss. He savored the little sigh she released into his mouth. He groaned as her fingers threaded through his hair and scratched his scalp. Amadia felt him half hard against her thigh and she felt the thrill return, igniting her blood. He began to trail down her neck when he forced himself to pull away. Amadia rose a questioning brow.

“Go upstairs and I'll lock the doors,” Cullen said, bringing a hand up to cup her face. “I don't plan on letting anything take my attention from you tonight." 

Amadia smiled at him, touched and looking forward to the rest of the evening. “Alright,” she said, her eyes not leaving his as she slid off the desk and out of his vest to make her way to the ladder. As she reached the base of it, a flame appeared in her hand and she swiped it up and down the ice on the nearby door to melt it. She began climbing. Cullen's fingers brushed her spine on his way to lock the door before she climbed out of reach. From the way her limbs were shaking, she surprised herself at how she could manage to climb up to his bedroom. Cullen couldn't resist looking up at her form as she climbed the ladder. He did not miss the shine of the moistness between her legs. He hardened at the thought of being within her again. With haste, he strode to the other door to lock it before following her up the ladder.

When he reached the top, she came into view. She was standing at the foot of his bed, turning around at the sound of him approaching. By the time his feet touched ground once more, he found her facing him. She clasped her hands behind her back, her entire front bare to him. The soft orange light of the sunset illuminated the curves from the right side of her body. Cullen could see her even clearer than in the candlelight of his office. The suppleness of her breasts, the planes of her stomach, the roundness of her hips... It kissed the bronze sheen in her high cheekbones and the warm pink blush there. It warmed the soft coral of her lips and the golden brown in her eyes that flitted over his form in appreciation.

“Maker, you're beautiful,” Cullen murmured, sauntering to the bed to meet her.

“Cullen...” she murmured, a pleased smile on her face even as she turned her blushing face away.

Cullen smiled at her shyness. When he reached her, he took her chin in gentle fingers, dipping his head a little so he could meet her eyes. The sun intensified her eyes. He took a moment to memorize the soft stripes of gold in her brown irises before leaning forward to meet her lips.

It started out tender but passionate, the two of them letting the fire drive the soft, teasing dance. It didn't take long for Cullen's lips to wander once again. They traveled down her throat and between her collar bones. Amadia closed her eyes and let her fingers thread into his hair once again. She laid still, content to enjoy the feeling of his lips.

“You take my breath away,” Amadia whispered as he trailed his kisses down her sternum.

“And you take mine,” he murmured in return, smiling against her belly. 

Amadia gasped as she felt her feet leave the ground. Cullen's arms were tight around her middle as he hoisted her up. His lover laughed and wrapped his legs around his abdomen. He climbed onto the bed and deposited her onto the softer surface. Immediately, his lips went to hers to kiss her into the mattress, his lover pulling him in with her arms. His lips traveled up her cheekbone to her ear. His teeth worried down the curve before capturing the lobe to suck on it. He cherished the way her body arched up into his, and he wrapped his arms around her to catch her.

“I love you,” he whispered, his breath hot in her ear. “I am in awe of you.”

Amadia only moaned as he suckled the hollow beneath her ear. The sensitivity of her slit returned even quicker than the first time. Her lover teased the length of it with the tip of his hardness. His hand slid along her skin, cupping a breast in one hand and teasing the nipple with a thumb. She was so hot she was on fire, and she wanted to  _burn_.

Without thinking, she hooked a leg around his and pushed. The mage flipped former Templar onto his back and covering his body with hers. Cullen laughed into her mouth as she sealed his lips over hers, and his laughter froze when she sat up. Her legs straddled his hips, exaggerating the flair of her hips. Her hands propped on his chest, pushing her up and causing her forearms to press her breasts together. Cullen groaned at the sight of them becoming fuller with that tiny motion. They rounded out even more in contrast to her toned tummy. When his eyes found hers again, he found her staring at him. Just the sight of her tongue swiping out to lick her lips made his heart beat faster. He thought he would expire when she grasped him and guided him inside of her.

He wanted to pay attention to her lovely face, he did. But he was distracted by the motion of her hips, undulating against his. She was still so wet from her last orgasm. The pain as he penetrated her was faint compared to earlier in the evening. His hands glided up her outer thighs. His fingertips were content to skate along the contours of her body as she set the pace. She ground against him, her movements slow but fierce. She was dying to savor the way she connected with him and bring him higher. Their moans were a song, harmonious as they released them in unison. Cullen's eyes finally found his lover's face to see her face as she sung. Her mouth was agape and her eyes closed, her head inclined towards the wall behind him as she focused.

“I rather like this view,” Cullen murmured, a roguish smirk coming across his lips.

Amadia's laugh was sheepish, and she fell forward a little bit in this timidity as if to hide her body from him. But Cullen wanted to see. His hands pressed themselves against her tummy and slid up to cup her breasts. Amadia's laughter to melted into a moan. She straightened back up, much to Cullen's pleasure. She let her head fall back as she closed her eyes again, chasing the white light. His hands were naughtier now. They kneaded her breasts for a few moments before his fingers skimmed to her back. He tugged her forward, allowing the mounds to fall to his face. She gasped as he sucked the sensitive flesh of one in his mouth, swirling the tip of his tongue around a nipple. Her gasps became shallower and more jerky. His cock hit that spot within her, and his mouth working her sensitive chest added to her pleasure.

Cullen sat up. He caught Amadia around the waist as she gasped at him filling her to the brim with the motion. Their eyes couldn't leave each other's faces as Amadia's hands cupped his cheeks. They gazed at each other as they moved abdomens flush together. Her clit got even better friction as she ground against him. Her louder moans against his mouth encouraged her lover to thrust up harder into her.

Amadia pressed her sweating forehead to his. Her lips were so close they tickled his own as she gasped, “I love you.” 

“I love you..I love you...” Cullen panted in kind, chanting the words like a Chantry prayer. He held her tight and lifted his hips harder into her slick core, causing her to gasp. “Tell me again. Please...”

“I love you,” she repeated, sealing her words with a short kiss. 

“Say it again.

“Oh, Cullen...” she whined, surprised to feel herself knotting up again.

“Please. Say it.”

“I love you, Cullen, I love you...”

She tried to tell him again. But in seconds, she was holding him tight to her and shuddering around him, crying out to the ceiling. They were already pressed together but she still couldn't get close enough to him. Her legs and arms pulled at him. She rode the waves of orgasm, loving how it felt to feel him inside her even more with each tightening. 

“Oh...love...” he cried in a strangled voice. Her words, her sounds, the feeling of her body fitted to his, her channel pulsing around his cock... He was full of his love for her and he could finally let go. He found his climax as she came down from hers, holding onto her with his fingers digging in. Amadia groaned at the feeling of his seed filling her. A thrill rolled through her at the way those last thrusts made her nerves buzz.

Amadia found her legs too shaky as she experimented with moving them. Cullen held onto her as he lowered them onto their sides. Soft now, he slipped out of her in the process but they found they couldn't bring their hips apart just yet. The Inquisitor snuggled into the warmth and safety of her commander's arms. He was glad to hold her tight. He felt her leg hook over his. He melted at the feeling of the entanglement, even after their passions had were sated. His fingers trailed up her spine and created meaningless pathways along the soft skin of her back. Amadia hummed in approval and she almost dozed, comforted by his touch and warmth.

Cullen craned his head to look down at her, finding her eyes closed as she curled into him. “Are you alright?” he asked, his voice low as if not wishing to disturb the peaceful silence of the room.

Amadia opened her eyes and gave him a wide smile. She stared up at him as she lifted her fingers to trace patterns over his chest. “I'm much better than alright,” she murmured. Her eyes seemed to dart around in thought before she let out an elated giggle she could no longer contain.

The corner of Cullen's mouth lifted at the sight of her. She always seemed to be in a good mood but her face here seemed to be girlish and carefree. She seemed more relaxed than he had ever seen. It served as a partial reminder to him of how good she was at keeping her stresses and worries at bay. More than once, he had caught her swiping at tears when she thought no one was looking. Each time she hid her pain under the face of the graceful, powerful Inquisitor. He needed to be more watchful, more aware of the signs she gave off when her responsibilities bore down on her. He wanted to share her burden not as just her commander but as her lover.

Cullen brought his hand to her cheek. He threaded his fingers through her short, brown locks and undoing any tangles he found. The contact made Amadia look up into his eyes. “What about you?” she asked. “How are you feeling?”

Cullen chuckled and his wide smile warmed Amadia's heart. She wasn't used to such a bright expression on his face, and she found she rather liked it. “I'm...wonderful,” Cullen replied. His mind offered hundreds more words to describe how happy he felt, words he wanted to shout to the sky. “This moment couldn't be more perfect.”

“Good,” Amadia replied, her happy face beckoning Cullen to kiss her again.

* * *

 The two had drifted off to sleep in each other's arms afterwards. Amadia had woken first, blinking bleary eyed in the darkness of his room. The last rays of sunlight cast the dimmest orange glow, the room navy and dark compared to earlier. She shifted in Cullen's arms, careful not to wake him and finding it to no avail. He stirred, groaning as her movements pulled him from sleep. When he looked to find her eyes blinking up at him in the darkness, he greeted her with peppered kisses to her face.

They were content to lay there until their stomachs rumbled. With reluctance, they made their way down to Cullen's desk to collect their clothes. Cullen didn't bother to don his armor, settling for his breeches and shirt. Amadia had wondered if one of them should go to the main hall first for their dinner. But some confidence must have been filling her commander tonight. He took her hand in his as they walked together to get their food.

Most of their people had eaten already. But a few from Amadia's inner circle were eating together and guffawing from the end of one of the long tables. When they sat with them, Amadia took a seat next to Bull and it had only been a few seconds before she felt his gaze on her. She turned to his staring face and raised a questioning eyebrow as the rest of their friends chatted. Bull leaned in to murmur, “Your neck itchy, Boss?” 

Amadia stared at him, eyebrows knit in confusion. She raised a hand to the left side of her neck, which was definitely not itchy. Then, flashbacks of Cullen's mouth working the side of it came flooding into her head. Bull resisted laughing at how her eyes widened. She tried and failed to cover the tiny bruises with her short hair and collar. She spent the rest of the dinner talking to her friends with her head craned to the left. She turned to Cullen to find she wasn't the only teasing victim. Varric proclaimed he was sitting before 'the Curly he remembered.' Amadia didn't know what that meant. That is, until she saw Sera and Dorian toying with springy curls at Cullen's temples. The commander froze and turned red as he ran a hand over his hair. He realized that the sweat from their activities had loosened the wax in his hair. Some of his styled locks had returned to their natural curliness. Amadia couldn't find it in her heart to defend him just yet. He looked so adorable when he was embarrassed. And she found his natural hair endearing.

The couple found themselves at their spot on the battlements right outside Cullen's office. They were content to hold each other and look at the stars and moon in silence. When Amadia agreed to spend the night, it was all Cullen could do not to whisk her off to his bed right away. He did when they began to yawn, and he lifted her off her feet to carry his lover upstairs to his bed. When they got there, they disrobed in silence. They glanced over their shoulders when the other wasn't looking. They realized this would be a normal part of their routine now, and the thought filled them with ecstasy. Both lovers thanked the Maker for this simple act of undressing to go to bed together. They prayed it was a taste of an even more promising future despite the danger of their cause. When they crawled under the blankets together, the goodnight kiss they shared became more. They made love in the dark one last time before sleep took them.

The morning after brought nightmares for Cullen. It occurred when Amadia had slipped from his arms to dress for the day. It was an unfortunate reminder for Cullen. Those terrors were not something her love could cure, no matter how strong it was. But when she caressed his his face, offering her worries with a smile... How did the Maker bring him to someone whose worries made him  _melt_? She was hesitant to leave his side after reassuring him of her love, wanting to waste the day away in this room. But there would be more nights to come...

...after Cullen cleaned up the clatter downstairs, of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy hell this is the longest smut I've ever written. I'm almost relieved it's finished. xD In my mind, I have all these little details and touches that come with romance scenes. It plays out like a movie where I'm affected by every little glance and movement and I think that translated with how long and detailed this scene was. :P
> 
> Also, the line about Cullen's boots being complicated may or may not have been inspired by my week of all-nighters before Anime Expo this year, hammering out my Cullen cosplay and having the most complicated boots in the world to do for my first time ever doing boot covers @___@


End file.
